


A Shipboard Christmas

by TMar



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 21:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17067827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TMar/pseuds/TMar
Summary: Data ponders what gifts to give people. Picard and Crusher try out a "bonding" teacup.





	A Shipboard Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a friend in December 1993.

A SHIPBOARD CHRISTMAS

It was Christmas Eve on the U.S.S. Enterprise, and the crew - well, those  
members of the crew who were human, anyway - were celebrating. No one had  
noticed until four hours before what day it was. Due to the nature of the  
space-time continuum, they were sometimes 'ahead' or 'behind' Earth's dates,  
but this time someone had noted that the stardate on Earth would be equal  
to... Christmas Eve. Even Deanna Troi had smiled.

"You know about Christmas, Counselor?" Picard had asked.

"Oh, yes, Sir. My father loved that holiday. He would always get a small  
tree and decorate it, not that there were suitable decorations on Betazed!"  
She smiled, remembering.

"My father hated Christmas," Riker said. "He said that one should only  
celebrate it if one belonged to the religion of origin."

"He has a point, Number One. Still, the idea of Christmas is worth  
celebrating."

"Yeah," put in Geordi, "peace on Earth and goodwill to men and all that."

"Exactly," said Picard.

"So..." Deanna mused, "are we going to have a celebration?"

"Why not?" Picard tapped his communicator. "This is Captain Picard.  
According to our calculations, today is Christmas Eve on Earth. All who  
follow Earth traditions - and those who don't - may want to celebrate.  
Permission granted."

***

The Christmas party in Ten Forward was in full swing when Data got there. He  
had been running a scan in his lab and had not been in the Observation Lounge  
when the rest of the crew had discussed it. He knew what Christmas was, of  
course, but some of the nuances and traditions still had him stumped. 

He found Geordi having a drink with Reginald Barclay at the bar. "Geordi, are  
you also celebrating?"

"Sure, Data. It's Christmas. It's one Earth tradition that people have  
always kept up with."

Data leaned closer to his friend and dropped his voice. "I believe that  
one should offer gifts to one's friends at this time, which will be opened  
on Christmas Day. Is that a correct assessment?"

"Yeah."

"What kinds of gifts?"

"Whatever you think they'd like."

Data looked confused. "I do not know what they would like."

Geordi laughed. "You'll have to guess, Data. Think of their hobbies, their  
interests." He looked suddenly concerned. "You have picked out gifts  
before, right?"

"I have chosen a gift for Chief O'Brien and Keiko. However, that was a  
wedding gift, which I believe is not appropriate for this occasion."

"True." Geordi stood up, spying a woman he liked - who actually liked him  
back. He clapped Data on the back. "Why don't you ask Reg to help you?" Off  
he strolled. Data turned to Barclay, who suddenly had a terrible look of panic  
on his face.

***

Beverly Crusher was having a Christmas Eve dinner with the captain in his  
quarters. "I wonder how the party's going?" she asked.

"Hmmm," said Picard around a mouthful of food.

Beverly toyed with her fork for a while, then placed it on the table,  
looking her captain in the eye. "Jean-Luc, I got you something. I'd like you  
to open it now in case we have a red alert or something tomorrow."

Picard stopped eating. "All right."

Beverly handed him a carefully wrapped package. Picard unwrapped it as  
carefully as he could, then placed it on the table, looking at the tiny clay  
cup with interest. He felt he should know what it was... "What is it?"

"It's a replica of a Camus teacup..." she began, and then Picard knew.

"I can see by its shape that it's not just any teacup."

Crusher looked down. "No. These were supposed to... bring certain  
feelings to the surface if two partners drank from it."

Jean-Luc was nodding. "The archaeologists never found out the kind of tea  
that was used, though."

"Earl Grey? Hot?" Beverly smiled, something naughty creeping into that  
smile.

Picard got a naughty glint in his, too. "You're not suggesting we try it,  
are you, doctor?"

"Why not?"

Picard raised his eyebrows. "Indeed, why not?" He stood and went to the  
replicator. "A pot of tea. Earl Grey. Hot." The teapot appeared, and Picard  
carried it over, pouring the tea into the teacup. "I just had a thought. This  
is only a replica. Do you think it'll still work?"

"Well, we'll soon find out," said Beverly, smiling more than ever.

***

Barclay was wishing he'd rushed off the minute Data had approached him and  
Geordi. But because he hadn't, he had to suffer through Data's attempts to  
choose gifts for his friends. So far the android had chosen gifts for Picard  
(a decoration for his fishtank), Deanna (an exotic headband), Riker (an erotic  
holograph), Beverly (new tap shoes) and Worf (a painting from Klingon  
history). But they had been standing here for twenty minutes now and still had  
not found a gift for Geordi. 

By now Data could tell that Barclay was getting antsy; he was stepping from   
one foot to the other, and kept glancing furtively at the door. "Mister Barclay,   
perhaps you should go and continue with the party. I am certain I will find an   
appropriate gift soon."

But for some reason Barclay couldn't bring himself to leave. He felt as  
if Geordi had given him this assignment, and leaving would be like beaming off  
a planet when the mission had not been accomplished. "No, Sir, I want to help.  
What does Commander LaForge like?"

Good question. Geordi was Data's best friend, but the man seemed to live  
for his engines, or to help him in his quest to be more human. Everything that  
Data could think of, Geordi either had or wouldn't want. "What about Commander  
LaForge's family? Couldn't you contact them and find out what he'd like?" Reg  
asked eventually. His feet were getting sore. 

"I do not think it would be wise to bother them with something as trivial as..."   
Data trailed off.

"Commander?" Reg asked in a worried tone.

"I have thought of a gift," announced Data. "It is so obvious I am  
surprised I did not think of it earlier."

"What is it?"

"I will paint something for Geordi."

"Uh... Commander. Christmas is tomorrow. Are you going to have the time  
to finish a painting?"

"It will not take long if I paint very quickly," said Data offhandedly.

"What are you going to paint?"

"I do not know yet. But it will come to me."

Barclay had his doubts. "You mean inspiration will strike?"

Data nodded. "Although I am an android, I have found that sometimes ideas  
for paintings will 'strike'. I believe I am capable of being... inspired." He  
turned to exit. 

Barclay followed, but headed in the other direction. "I'm going back to the party.   
Good luck," he said.

"Thank you," Data replied, hurrying off.

***

Captain Picard and Doctor Crusher still had not arrived at the party, and  
William T. Riker was getting worried. Why were they late? Was Picard on the  
bridge? Was there an emergency in Sickbay? He addressed the air. "Computer,  
location of Captain Picard?"

"Captain Picard is in his quarters."

"Location of Doctor Crusher?"

"Doctor Crusher is in Captain Picard's quarters."

'Really,' thought Riker, an evil smirk appearing on his face. He went  
over to Deanna, who'd been discussing the roots of the Christmas celebration  
with a Vulcan.

"Deanna."

"Excuse me," smiled the Counselor, turning to Will. "What is it?"

"The captain and Beverly are both in his quarters, have been for hours.  
They had Christmas dinner together."

Troi shrugged. "So it was a long dinner."

"I don't think so."

"Why?"

"You're the Betazoid. Don't tell me you haven't picked up the signals."

"Will, they feel a lot for each other. But something keeps them apart.  
I don't know if they'll ever get past it."

"Maybe they're afraid of what the crew might think," Riker pointed out.  
He didn't have to add the obvious conclusion: he and Deanna were also afraid,  
for the same reason.

Deanna was nodding. "Maybe."

"Well, let's show them that we approve, whaddaya say?"

"How?"

"We'll go surprise them."

"Will -- "

"And we'll show them how happy we are." Without further ado, the First  
Officer went over to Worf, whose security signal they'd need to get into the  
captain's quarters, and began to talk him into it.

***

Captain Picard had just ordered another pot of tea from the replicator, the  
last pot having gotten cold ages ago. He carried the tray and cups over to  
Beverly, who smiled as she sat up, the sheet slipping. She didn't bother to  
pull it back up; she merely winked at the captain. "Tea," he said  
unnecessarily. "Earl Grey. Hot."

"I would never have known," smiled Beverly as he poured it. She took the  
cup and sipped it. "Now, captain, in your professional opinion, did the Camus  
teacup work?"

"Hmmm..." He made a big show of pondering it. "I think it did... but of  
course that was only a preliminary study."

"You mean we'll have to do some more studies on the topic?"

"Oh, many more, definitely."

"I thought so. Have to be scientific."

"Absolutely." He leaned over and kissed her. The tea spilt all over.  
Neither of them noticed it, however, until...

"Surprise!" It seemed that an entire horde of people had barged into the  
captain's quarters. Both Picard and Beverly sat bolt upright, truly surprised  
for the first time in who knew how long.

Picard, who had put on his robe, did not feel naked, only... first  
embarrassed, and then angry. Crusher, however, felt naked. She was. She pulled  
the sheet up to her chin, as Picard finally managed to get his vocal cords to  
work. "What is the meaning of this, Number One?"

About five seconds after coming in, Riker had begun to regret his idea.  
But it was far, far too late to back out now. "Uh... captain, we..."

Troi salvaged the situation, trying to hide her happy smile. "We wanted  
to surprise you for Christmas, Sir."

"Well, you certainly did that."

"Yes, Sir."

The conspirators had encountered their science officer on the way, and  
had brought him with them. It hadn't occurred to them that perhaps Data had  
not realised the nature of the new relationship between the captain and the  
doctor. And now, of course Data had to make the obvious comment. "I did not  
know that you and Doctor Crusher were romantically involved, Sir," he said,  
politely as usual.

Picard realised that denying it would only make him look foolish. Here  
he and Beverly were, he only in a robe, she in nothing, in a bed covered in  
tea. "Well, now you know, Mister Data."

"Yes, Sir." Data somehow seemed to know that he had better not make any  
other comment.

"Now," began Picard, "I would appreciate it if you people would leave my  
quarters."

"Yes, Sir," said Riker, turning. Then he stopped. "Wait, Captain, These  
are for you and Doctor Crusher." He, Deanna, Data and Worf placed presents on  
the table. "Sir... permission to make a personal comment."

Picard thought he might as well allow it. It could hardly be more embarrassing than  
what had already gone on. "Granted."

"You and Doctor Crusher make a lovely couple. Sir."

"Dismissed."

"Aye, Sir." The culprits trooped out. 

Picard looked ruefully at Beverly, and then a smile broke over his face.   
"Doctor... do you get the impression that... in the vernacular... we've been had?"

"Definitely." She picked up her uniform, seemed to change her mind, and  
tied the sheet over one shoulder like a toga instead. "I must say, Jean-Luc,  
I'm surprised at you. I expected you to throw them all in the Brig."

"Oh, I wanted to. But that would have caused too much gossip." He paused.  
"But I am going to think of something particularly nasty to do to Lieutenant  
Worf."

"Worf? Why?"

"For overriding the lock on my door."

Beverly smiled. "Make him suffer." She sat down at the table. "Now, shall  
we open these?"

"All right." They began unwrapping.

***

Geordi was smiling broadly. Not only had he had a lovely... er, date... last  
night, but his best friend had given him something for Christmas. This was  
something to smile about. "Thank you, Data. You really didn't have to."

Data answered truthfully, as always. "I know that. But it is a human  
custom to give presents to those whom one cares about, is it not?"

"Yeah."

"Then I am happy to give you a gift."

Again Geordi said, "Thank you, Data."

"You are welcome."

Geordi unwrapped the large, flat gift and looked at the painting which  
emerged. "It's... it's beautiful, Data."

"I painted it last night. For you."

"Last night?"

"Yes."

"You must have painted extra fast."

"Actually, it only required me to paint 43.7% as f-- "

Geordi cut him off. "It doesn't matter. It's lovely. Where am I going to put it?"

Data cocked his head, trying to decide if that was a rhetorical question  
or not. "I do not know."

"You don't know?"

"I have found that humans often do not place gifts according to aesthetic  
criteria. They consider factors such as the person who gave them the gift  
originally, the meaning of the gift, the..."

"Yeah." Geordi picked up the painting. "Where would you put it, if you  
lived here?"

Data looked around. "I believe I would place it on this wall. The light  
will accentuate it, and it will also be easily noticeable by anyone who  
enters. That is, assuming you wish others to see it."

"Of course I do, Data." In two minutes the painting was mounted on the  
wall. Geordi stood three metres away, examining it. "That's the perfect spot.  
Thanks. Oh... I almost forgot." He handed Data a package. "Go on, open it."

By now Data knew to rip the wrapping off, which he did. It was a very,  
very old book. Data looked at the spine. "Sherlock Holmes? Geordi, where did  
you get this?"

"A friend on Earth got it for me a while ago. I thought it would have  
more meaning than just reading the stories in the computer."

Data was still looking at the book. "A first edition? I should say so."  
He looked at his friend. Only a true friend would go to such lengths. "Thank  
you, Geordi."

His friend smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "You're welcome."

Data was about to leave when the door chimed. "Come in," called Geordi,  
to find Melinda Stratton standing there. She also held a gift, but when she  
saw Data, she turned to go. "Please come in," said Geordi.

The ensign walked in, but had only gone two paces when she caught sight  
of Data's painting. "That's beautiful!" she exclaimed.

The painting showed the outline of the Enterprise amidst a field of  
stars, and within the outline of the ship was Geordi's face. Data had meant  
it as a metaphor to show that Geordi, as chief engineer, was the heart of the  
ship. Melinda turned to Geordi. "It's as if... you're what makes the ship go,"  
she said. "You're its heart, its soul almost."

"I think that's what Data intended," replied LaForge.

"That is correct," said Data. "Excuse me." He exited, and Melinda handed  
Geordi the gift, still looking at the painting. "It really is beautiful. Think  
Data would paint something for me?"

***

Data strolled down the corridor, still holding his precious book, and almost  
bumped into the doctor and the captain, who were headed the other way.  
"Doctor. Captain." He looked down; Beverly had her new tap shoes on.

"Ah, Data. I was just going to look for you. I'm going to test these out.  
Wanna come?"

"Captain?" asked the android, unsure of what Picard's function in all  
this was.

"I'm strictly an observer."

"Very well."

They stopped at Holodeck Two. "You can show the captain your dancing,"  
Crusher said to Data, who was programming the Holodeck. "And you, Jean-Luc,  
can show your science officer yours."

"I don't - " began Picard, but Crusher cut him off.

"You do today."

Picard sighed as they entered the familiar dance studio, and the doors  
hissed shut behind them.

***

Deanna Troi smiled a very wide smile. "What is it?" asked Riker.

"There's a general feeling of happiness and contentment on this ship,"  
she said.

"You don't have to be an empath to tell that."

They both stared at the ceiling for a couple of minutes, then Riker spoke  
again. "We should celebrate Christmas like this more often."

Deanna pushed him out of bed. "You!"

He got up, looking wounded. "What?"

She leaned over and took his chin in her hand. "I don't know." She kissed  
him. "Merry Christmas, Commander."

"Merry Christmas, Counselor."

***

And in the Holodeck from which Data had long since departed, another couple  
was still dancing. "Merry Christmas, Doctor."

"Merry Christmas... Captain."

THE END


End file.
